Flames of War
by kittykatloren
Summary: He simply held her, knowing exactly how she was feeling, as all the grief she had pushed away to a frozen corner of her mind finally melted into her heart and soul, the pain more real and piercing than any battle wound. FE9 and FE10; Jill/Haar twoshot.
1. I

**A/N:** Usually I'm not a fan of the whole "Oh let's pair off those two units of the same class, yay!" thing. But this pairing really grabbed me, though not in the least because Haar is, what, 10+ years older than Jill? You could say I have a thing for older guys. I also really liked the idea of Haar and Jill because they're so incredibly different, and that makes them match so perfectly. As different as they are, they have one thing in common - respect and love for Shiharam - and that really brings them close.

Anyway, this fic will be two chapters, each divided into two parts. In the first chapter, it will be one scene during the Mad King's War (Path of Radiance) and once scene after it. In the second chapter, it will be one scene during the Radiant Dawn war and one scene after it. Make sense? Good!They are canon, but I don't use direct game dialogue - I make most of it up, just basing it off the conversations. In this chapter, the first part takes place in that base convo where Haar talks to Jill before he's actually a member of the party. Or sort of in the convo when you recruit him. But not really - it's not QUITE canon, but it's something I imagine could have happened all the same.

Please, please, please leave a review. I know I get hits and readers, and I know this is a popular pairing... so please let me know what you think. The next chapter will be up soon, and so far it's turning out better than this one.

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize belongs to Nintendo, not me.

* * *

"You heard about Shiharam, then?"

"Heard about it? I was part of the army that did it," Jill growled, refusing to look at him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Haar shake his head wearily. "Jill, why are you here? They killed your father. They're fighting against your country."

"It's not that simple!"

"Seems simple to me. You could come with me, Jill - you're my soldier, aren't you?"

"But - don't you realize, Captain?" she said, stepping closer to him and glowering. She could barely think through the flames of anger coursing through her mind, but she knew that Haar, of all people, had to understand. "Everything we were taught as kids, as soldiers… it's all wrong. Ashnard is mad! The laguz… they're not sub-humans. They're just as much people as we are. I never thought… I never thought I could feel this way until I joined this army… I trust these people, Haar! My father… I knew he never wanted this. He never wanted to slaughter innocents on Ashnard's orders. And neither do you! I know you, Haar! You know I'm right – your king is mad, and if you continue to fight for him, you'll be killing for nothing!"

A long silence followed her words. She had worked herself up into a fury; all she could hear was the sound of her own blood pounding in her ears, she was so incensed with him, perhaps even with herself. Haar, on the other hand, watched her, unperturbed, as indolent as ever. He raised an eyebrow and tried to stare her down, but she did not falter in her fury. For a second, she thought she saw him smile.

"You've forgotten one little thing in your flawless argument there," Haar said coolly. But heat was building behind his idle words. "I'm older than you, Jill. I remember what it was like before Ashnard. I remember what it was like to fight for the honor of Daein, under command of your father. I remember Begnion's corruption, and Ashnard is nothing – _nothing_ – compared to backhanded slime that lives in the palaces of Sienna. So I can't leave just yet. There's something that I have to do, and when it's done, I'll get back to you. I promise. But until then, keep your pretty little mouth shut, you hear?"

His temper had emerged as he continued to speak, and Jill gaped at him, for she didn't think she had ever seen him actually _angry_ before, about anything. Not even when she had been little and constantly pulled his hair, or tried to trip him while he was training, or when she had grown older and demanded that he spend hours into the night coaching her, or when she interrupted him loudly from one of his many naps. Even Haar looked mildly surprised at himself.

"What in Ashera's name do you mean by all _that_?" Jill breathed.

He shook his head, already calm and collected again. "I'm proud of you, Jill. You're making your own decisions, you're shaping your own life now. It almost makes me miss the days when you were just a wee little trainee and would follow any order from even the most lowly of official soldiers. Look at you now! Friends with the laguz and a proud member of the Crimean army. Jill, I know you're right about Ashnard. But Daein as a whole? It's not all so black and white, and you should know that better than anyone. I can't just go running off as easily as you did."

"Why not?"

"I told you. There's something I have to do."

He met her gaze squarely, his one good eye completely unreadable. As her rage subsided a little bit into mere frustration, Jill crossed her arms and frowned at him. "You could tell me what it is. I could help and get you out of there sooner."

Haar considered her for a moment. Then he shook his head. "I don't want you involved."

"I'm not a child anymore, Captain! I can take care of myself!"

"I _know_ you're not a child," he yawned, though he was still watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Doesn't change the fact that I don't want you involved."

"You – you – fleabitten, lazy, gods-cursed pile of - "

"Mind your language," Haar said, tapping her on the nose.

"Don't touch me!"

Again, a tense silence fell between them. At least, to Jill it felt tense; her heart was pounding so fast, and she was sure her face had gone bright red like it always did when she worked herself up too much. Haar, on the other hand, grinned lazily and gave her another shrug and a yawn.

"You're cute when you're angry," he said. Before Jill could say anything in protest, he held up his hand, glancing around to make sure the Crimean army hadn't caught sight of them. "But we've got no place hating each other, not when Shiharam is dead. I have to stay in the Daein army just a little bit longer. Try to understand, won't you?"

Miserable all of a sudden, Jill shook her head. Determinedly she looked at the ground, so Haar wouldn't see the brightness in her eyes. "I can't understand, Captain… you _know_ they're wrong. What if – what if the next time we meet is in battle? What then?"

She felt her head tilt upwards, Haar's fingers beneath her chin. His touch was gentle, and she didn't flinch away this time; rather, she looked up – for he was so much taller, and they were standing so close – and met his gaze, studying his face, his expression. Small scars crisscrossed the right side of his face, the pale lines mostly hidden by his black eyepatch. His appearance revealed nothing of his emotions or thoughts.

"I made a promise to your father," he said calmly, "that I'd take care of you. I won't fight you, Jill - I couldn't hurt you. But listen to me – perhaps the next time we meet, I'll have done what I needed to do. So who knows? Try not to kill me before talking to me, you know? Promise?"

"I promise," said Jill, rather quietly. Her tears over her father's death had long since dried, but the mention of a promise - her father's last words, last hope, entrusted to Haar, the one other person she trusted as much as she had trusted Shiharam; Haar, who swore to keep her safe - the idea of that promise struck some kind of chord deep in her heart. She caught her breath, confused.

"Good. See you around, Jill."

Haar nodded and stepped away from her. The sudden lack of his imposing presence next to her made her feel quite vulnerable. What if the whole army had seen their exchange?

"Captain! Captain Haar, wait!" said Jill, chasing after him. She caught his arm and forced him to turn and look at her again. "Don't… don't get yourself killed, Captain. For me."

With a flash of his familiar grin, he reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately, just like he had always done when they were younger. But this time his hand lingered on her cheek before he pulled it away, rough fingers cool against her flushed skin. "I'll do my best," he said, with a nonchalant shrug.

Which, Jill realized, was the most she could hope for. As she watched him leave, mentally preparing herself for returning to the main army, straight-faced, Jill searched desperately for the only hopes still lingering in heart – Crimean victory, peace with the laguz, Haar's safety. _It'll all be all right,_ she told herself, closing her eyes. _Father would be proud of me, wouldn't he?_

In the distance, a lone black wyvern glided farther and farther away towards the horizon. Haar rode upon its back, staring at nothing, thinking of Jill and her words, hoping that they would meet again before it was too late.

* * *

They departed Ike's merry little band together, for truly, they were all each other had. Sure, they had made friends; they had bonded with many other comrades, for friendship and trust is often unavoidable in such a closely knit army. But every so often, Haar would notice Jill pull her long hair in front of her and thread her fingers though it, a nervous habit she'd developed as soon as she had hair long enough to reach her shoulders. True to his word to Shiharam, Haar stayed close beside her, and always placed a comforting hand on her shoulder whenever she grew anxious.

And finally, after every farewell, when even Haar realized he'd miss some of these soldiers, they took their leave, just the pair of them. And their loyal wyverns, of course. After the horrors of the recent war, the skies seemed warm and friendly, though they often had to avert their gaze from the ravaged ground below. If they passed a struggling village, Jill always convinced Haar to stop and help, especially once they passed into Daein. He didn't mind, really. Lazy as he was, he liked to see Jill smile, and somehow she always managed to smile wearily at the end of a long day as long as they had made even one person's life just a little bit easier. So he helped her. He did whatever she asked, and kept his napping to a bare minimum, for he only slept when he was out of her range of vision.

But as they grew nearer and nearer to Talrega, the only "home" they had left, Jill grew quieter and quieter. The land here was near deserted, regardless. When the roar of the recently flooded river met their ears, she stopped talking altogether, and Haar soon gave up trying to force conversation. They landed in silence, the loud squelching of their boots in the mud the only noise outside of nature's typical rhythm. Jill managed her saddle, her bags, and her wyvern in silence. Eventually, Haar could not take it any longer.

"Look at you. You're stiff as a dead man," he said brusquely. Her back was so straight and tense that he was surprised that she could even move. "Come over here, Jill. You've got to relax a little bit."

Wordlessly she followed his first instruction: she patted her loyal mount in thanks, then walked over to Haar, her gaze fixed determinedly upon her feet. Haar sighed and stepped behind her. Before she could glare at him in silent protest, he began to rub her shoulders and back to try and force her to relax; her muscles were so tight under his fingers that they felt almost as hard as her shoulderblades. For a while, it seemed as though he might as well be massaging a rock for all the good it would do, but eventually her posture loosened, and she exhaled in a deep, long sigh. Haar heard her breath tremble.

"That's better, isn't it?" he said. "Don't scare me like that, Jill. You can't go dying on me now, you know? We've got that courier service to start."

"I didn't know you cared that much," she said quietly.

"Praise the goddess, she speaks!"

Now Jill did glare at him, her eyes burning through his jovial façade. Haar sighed, cowed into solemnity. "Jill, we're all we have, now. Traitors to our army, and even though we joined the right side, the winning side, it doesn't matter. We're birds of a feather."

"So we will fly together?"

"We will," said Haar. "After a good night's rest here, of course. We could leave after tomorrow's midmorning nap. And then we could find someplace nice and quiet - "

"Haar…" interrupted Jill, her voice very soft, her eyes staring into the distance at something that Haar couldn't see. "Do you know where my father is buried?"

He stopped talking at once. Immediately he steadied his breathing, closed his eyes, carefully examined the memories he so often tried to forget. Oh, he knew; he knew all too well… Sometimes he imagined he could still feel the mud between his fingers, the ache in his muscles, the sting of tears on his cheeks. He realized that Jill was watching him, her expression fearful. She looked, for the first time since the beginning of the war, like a child again, a girl lost in the world without her proud, loving father.

"I know," Haar said. "I buried him. I had to make sure he was honored. The other soldiers, Petrine's guard… they didn't treat any of the fallen with respect, Daein or Crimea. It's… not far from here."

Resolutely she nodded. Haar understood, and now silent himself, he led the way, feeling her presence very close at his back. They worked their way around Fort Talrega, slow due to the mud, until they reached the line where forest met open plain. But the plain was no more than damp mounds of dirt, shallow and terrible graves for honorable men. Directly in front of him was the only grave that had any kind of mark at all – a broad, white stone rested at the head of the grave, once so clear of dirt that it sparkled in the sunlight, though now time had worn its sparkle down to a dull glimmer. Haar heard Jill catch her breath sharply.

"Which one…?"

"Here," Haar said. "Right here. This stone… it was all I could find."

For a moment, she didn't speak, and Haar turned around, lost for words but nevertheless wanting to speak, to offer her some minimal comfort. Her eyes were bright, and her lips quivered. On impulse, Haar pulled her into his arms, and it was only then that she cried, her whole body trembling as salty tears fell from her cheeks to his chest. Neither of them said a word. They didn't need to speak. He simply held her, knowing exactly how she was feeling, as all the grief she had pushed away to a frozen corner of her mind finally melted into her heart and soul, the pain more real and piercing than any battle wound. Jill's tears soon subsided, and she and Haar were silent again.

Haar did not cry – he couldn't, not in front of her, not when she was clinging to him and relying on him to be her strength, her guardian – but his mind filled with memories of Shiharam, both as a surrogate father and a commander. Everything he knew of battle and honor, of courage, chivalry, and right and wrong, of children's tales and love and faith, he had learned from Shiharam.

"Let's stay here," Jill said. "Let's start that delivery service, with our base here, in Talrega."

Surprised, Haar looked down at her. She was still leaning against his chest, but despite the redness of her eyes, she was no longer crying. Her voice didn't waver. He realized, rather offhandedly, that he couldn't refuse her, even if he had wanted to.

"As long as there's a bed for me to sleep in, I can be happy anywhere," Haar said, catching Jill's tiny smile.

"You don't need a bed. You can sleep anywhere just fine."

"All the better, isn't it? I can be happy anywhere. But nevertheless, I'd rather be here, running a delivery service, than sleeping _all_ the time. As long as I can still sleep _most_ of the time."

"You're hopeless," Jill said, pulling away from him. She glanced once more at her father's grave, and Haar noticed her hand move strangely, as if she were reaching out to touch a hand that wasn't there. Then, briskly, she wiped her eyes and turned. "Let's go. We've a lot of work to do, then."


	2. II

**A/N: **And here is the second chapter. First part takes place in the first big battle between Ike and Micaiah's parties, and is based off the conversation between Jill and Haar where Haar can convince her to join Ike's group. Second part is just pure fun and fluff!

Again, please and thank you for reviews! Enjoy.

* * *

A vast swamp stretched below him, the reek of mud and bodies and blood nearly overpowering, even this far in the sky. He could hear, all too clearly, the clamors of battle, the ringing of metal on metal, the cries of the fallen. For once, he was grateful that he only had one eye. When he looked down, he only had to see half as many dead; half as much blood spilling into the dark mire, the same color as the dirt-water; half as many friends and foe alike fighting in constant fear. Whenever knights bragged of glory in battle, whenever Haar himself thought proudly of his accomplishments in the military… this was what had to remember. He tightened his grip on his axe, both his hand and the blade already stained with enemy blood.

In front of him loomed a fellow dracoknight, the soldier's hand clasped around an axe like his own. No, this one was not a fellow… this one was one of the enemy. By the soldier's size, Haar guessed she was a woman, perhaps a new recruit. He hefted his weapon firmly, preparing to charge.

She was no new recruit. She evaded his attack like it was nothing, and he nearly tumbled off his mount, tugging the reins just in time to block her counterattack. Her axe shuddered against his thick armor, rattling his insides.

But he, too, was no novice to fighting. Quickly he dove beneath her and slashed at her mount from the bottom, just quick enough to scratch its hide. The beast gave a great roar, nearly deafening him, and charged in a fury, just as he'd hoped. As its rider struggled to regain control, Haar swung at her, missing flesh by mere inches as his axe bounced off against her helmet. He sliced at her arm instead, and there his attack was successful. The rage of battle burned hot in his ears.

The soldier let out a sudden cry. With blinding speed, she whirled around to his right side, and before he could react, she was pelting his side with steady, endless blows.

He could feel the attacks, yet they were almost like an irritating insect buzzing in his ear, for she only hit his armor. All of a sudden, his mind left the battle, focusing instead on tiny details that refused to leave him alone – her speed, her style; she _knew_ to attack his right side, his blind side…

Suddenly the corner of her axe brushed against his neck. Cold metal hooked under his helmet and forced it off, sending it spiraling into the bog below. Quick as a flash, Haar whipped around and imitated the attack.

The soldier before him, clutching her injured arm with one hand and her axe with the other, tears streaming down her furious face, was Jill.

"What the hell, Jill?!" he shouted. "What are you _doing_? Fighting for them! After everything you yourself said about the Daeins!"

"They're my friends!" she retorted, and though she was crying, her voice was quite steady. "We fought to restore Daein to peace! And now I must support them!"

"And fight your other friends?!"

The blood from her injured arm was beginning to leak through her fingers and stain her shirt; the hand she had pressed over her wound was not enough. She gasped, her jaw clenched tight. In an instant, Haar was by her side, sickened with himself. Her blood – coating her hand now – rested on his axe as well. "Let me help you," he said, forgetting that they were in the middle of the battle and on opposing sides.

"I don't need your help!" she hissed, slapping his arm away. Her palm left a bloody imprint on his shirt. Her eyes filled with tears again, and she looked quickly away. "Don't – don't be kind to me, Haar! We're enemies now. If I can't bring myself to fight you… I'm a failure as a soldier. Don't look at me like that!"

He had been watching her every movement, mouth open, in both shock and awe of what he was seeing and hearing. Jill had always been fierce, always outspoken, but when had she become so captivating when she was crying and yelling? Her countenance was striking. All of her words resonated in his hears, and yet, he couldn't forget his loyalty to Ike and his army.

"I can't help it," Haar said at last. "I care about you, Jill – I owe it to Shiharam to keep you safe, and look at me now, nearly cutting you down, and now you won't even let me wrap the wound!"

She opened her mouth soundlessly. Her arm was bleeding a little more slowly now, which eased some of Haar's worry, though the guarded look in her eyes still tugged at his heart. Settling herself more comfortably on her wyvern's back, Jill looked away and muttered under her breath. "You _didn't_ nearly cut me down. We were equally matched."

"This is true," said Haar thoughtfully, duly noting a well-timed throb from his right shoulder, where she had battered him relentlessly. "That's like you, Jill. Never one to surrender your pride."

A grudging, seemingly unconscious smile flashed across her face for the fleetest of moments. But then she was somber again, her arms trembling. "I can't leave them all, Haar. But I can't fight you. I'm worthless, aren't I?"

Steadily he met her gaze. She was no longer crying, but her eyes were bright and red, reminding him of the first time they had truly been alone together after the Mad King's War. Just the pair of them, standing by Shiharam's grave, and Jill had seemed to collapse with the weight of all she had seen and experienced. As strong as she was, she had cried in his arms, the child who had lost her father instead of the warrior who could defeat any who tried to harm her.

And now she had cried again in front of him. But this time, she did not cling to him for comfort. She held herself tall and proud, alone; yet here he was, still attempting to support her even when she so clearly did not need him. What was the matter with him? He had to think of his loyalty, his duty, his pride as a soldier. But when Jill was involved… everything else faded into insignificance. The raging battle below, all the death and fear and the reek of swamp rot, did not affect Haar in the slightest any longer.

"You're not worthless at all. You're loyal," Haar said, after he had chosen his words very carefully. "But I have to ask one thing… where does your true loyalty lie, Jill?"

Again she was speechless. In her eyes, Haar saw a flash of indecision, worry, and fear.

"Just think about it," he said. He tossed her a roll of bandages from his own supplies. "Go. Take care of yourself. Don't die out here. If you're happy living your life always second-guessing yourself, then fine, go and support Daein in this pointless war. Or, you can come with me, and prove to everyone that you _know_ what's right. Remember, Jill? Remember how Shiharam told us that, again and again? And he ended up fighting for Ashnard! Do what Shiharam couldn't do, Jill. Fight for what you believe."

For a long moment, she did nothing but stare, her vibrant eyes alight with memories and confusions and all manner of things that Haar couldn't understand. Rapidly she blinked and looked away. "Oh, Captain… I could never fight you."

Haar held out his hand, meeting her gaze squarely. "Then join me."

"Is it really that simple? I've already betrayed my country once before – how can I do it again?"

"Better to be a traitor to your country than to your beliefs. We both know that better than anyone."

At long last, Jill, with a strained expression, laid her axe across her lap and took his hand gingerly, for her arm had to hurt when she stretched it so. When her rough, battle-worn palm touched his, Haar remembered why he had longed to stand by her even after Shiharam was dead, why he had wanted to work with her, train with her, travel with her. Fight with her.

"Thank you, Captain Haar," she said. Her voice was much more composed now. "I'll fight with you. I'll show them all what's right. Just tell me what to do, Captain!"

Unable to suppress a smile, even through all the misery of battle, Haar gripped her hand, then reached up to wipe the last of the almost-dry tears from her cheeks. Tugging on his wyvern's reins to adjust his position, he picked up the bandages that he'd thrown to her and began to wrap her arm, a task made difficult by the huge, pounding wings of their tired mounts. But he got the job done, wiped the blood from both his and Jill's hands, and tossed the spare rags into the depths of the swamp. His own blood did not bother him. Nor did that of most other people. But Jill's? For some reason, Haar couldn't stand to see the stark, crimson gleam on her skin and shirt, his hands, his axe, or even on the spare bandages. Her _blood._

Haar tapped the sides of his mount and hefted his axe once more in his hand. Jill followed his lead, holding her weapon with her uninjured arm, her expression sharp and ready.

"Stay alive, Jill," Haar said. "That's what you have to do. Fight, and stay alive. Let's go!"

Together they dove back into the fray. Back into the danger, death, and darkness; only this time, Haar did not succumb to the flames of war that usually consumed in his mind during battle. For this time, Jill was beside him, grounding him. As they fought, constantly guarding each other's backs, Haar did not need to try very hard to stay close to her.

Shiharam had taught him well. Ensuring her safety, above all else, came quite naturally.

* * *

Once again, they remained together after the war. Only this time, Jill was not broken with grief for her father, terrified to be so young and alone.

Though, she realized, watching Haar yawn unabashedly, his head resting near the head of his snoozing wyvern, she hadn't ever _truly_ been alone. It had only felt that way at the time.

Not lightly, Jill knelt and tapped Haar on the shoulder quite a few times to wake him.

"Ouch," he mumbled, opening a lazy eye and glaring at her. "You don't have to poke me so hard. You don't have to poke me at all, actually."

"I need to ask you something."

"Ask away."

"What are you going to do now?"

"What does it look like? I'm going to sleep. I'll sleep and eat and maybe run a few deliveries on the side."

"Haar!" Jill scolded, the heat rising in her face. "You're so hopeless! Don't you have any drive, any ambition, any passion to make Daein a better place to live? You're strong enough to lead the wyvern knights of Daein, like my father did! You could do so much for this country, and instead you just - "

"Look, Jill. All I want is some peace," Haar interrupted sternly. "After all we've been through, I think we deserve it, you know? Micaiah's got Daein moving in the right direction, anyway. You need to relax a bit, you little fireball."

"I need to – _what _did you call me?"

"A fireball. You're like my personal little fireball."

Jill blinked, utterly bewildered.

With a strange combination between a yawn and a sigh, Haar shrugged and closed his eyes again. "Fire's pretty, but it's got a nasty bite. And it just burns and burns and burns, getting fiercer with every passing second. Just like you. And you're a pretty small person, too. So, you're my little fireball."

"I'm not that small," Jill said grumpily. "Just because I'm not a giant, like you. And I'm not _your_ anything, for your information. I take care of myself!"

"Of course you do. Because you're like fire. But you could let a man warm himself by that fire, couldn't you?" Haar said. He opened one eye again and patted the ground beside him. "Come on, Jill. Relax a little bit."

For a moment, she merely stared at him, bewildered yet again, though this time by the clarity of his gaze rather than the enigma of his words. But for all her stubborn resolve, she couldn't deny that her heart leapt at the idea of a little peace. Slowly – so as not to look too keen – Jill laid her head next to his and stretched languidly, like a yawning cat. Haar laughed, ruffling her fiery hair.

"See. Even you can't deny that this is nice."

"I suppose… I can understand why you like it so much," said Jill as she watched a few wisps of cloud dance in the sky. Haar's hand was tangled in her hair now. Out of instinct, Jill rested her cheek against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she did so. She felt as warm as fire just then, and so she opened her eyes to thank Haar, to tell him that she understood, but she found that he was already asleep. Before her mind could interfere, Jill pressed a light kiss to his scarred cheek and adjusted herself more comfortably, close beside him.

When the hot afternoon had lulled her to sleep as well, Haar opened his eyes again. He smiled and kissed the top of Jill's head, his cheek tingling as if touched by a stray spark.


End file.
